Here We Are Again
by Sus-aka-Susie
Summary: Tristan runs into an old friend in an unlikely place. Catching up was never this interesting.
1. It's Been A While

Disclaimer: Jamie and I own nothing. The characters belong to Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. Take it up with them if you have to.

Authors: Susie and Jamie (Mrs. Witter)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Paris/Tristan/Rory

Author's Note: Yes, we know that this is not a usual Trory fic. We're not even saying it's a Trory fic. We're not saying it's a Paris/Tristan fic. Just read it and go with it.  We'll all be happy that way

Here We Are Again Prologue: It's Been A While 

She walked along the boardwalk, noting the serenity that came with being by the ocean so late at night.  In contrast to the day when tourists were milling about in every possible direction, late at night the beach was serene, the only noise the crashing of the waves onto the shore.  She smiled, realizing that this is why people went on vacation, not to see as many sites as possible in four days and five nights, but to relax.  She couldn't even remember the last time she took a break from reality, then sighed realizing this was probably the first time in twenty-five years.

She sat down on a bench overlooking the water, comfortable just watching as the stars reflected off the water.  She began to lose herself, following the rhythmic movements of the ocean, lulling her into a sense of security she never felt in the city.  That is until she felt the bench move beneath her as someone sat beside her.

He had been watching her from a distance; at first without realizing whom she was. But as he drew closer, the face was unmistakable. It felt like the past had finally caught up to him, or something profound like that. Her hair was shorter and her sense of style had changed quite a bit - he had never pictured her wearing shorts and a tank top. Of course, he hadn't seen her since their junior year at Chilton and in retrospect, the uniform did nothing but cover up that incredible figure. 

What were the chances that they would be vacationing in the same island resort, eight years later? Apparently, the odds weren't against that fact.

He smiled as he approached her sitting on the bench, gazing up at the stars with that content expression on her face. When he sat down, he felt like he had invaded a peaceful moment. She turned to him startled, eyes wide with shock as she instantly recognized him. 

"Paris Gellar, it's been awhile."

She openly stared at the blond a small smile on her lips; he looked exactly the same, same tousled hair, same sun kissed skin, same amused smirk.  She met his gaze, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.  She couldn't deny that the years had been good to him; he looked better now than he did when she had last seen him, if one could believe that.  Shaking her head from that line of thought she recalled his statement before responding.

"Eight years," she stated wistfully, remembering how furious she was when she last saw him, how furious she thought she would be upon seeing him again, but that was years ago, she had moved on, and more importantly grown up.

Tristan hadn't expected a hug so he wasn't taken aback by her calm greeting. Instead, he grinned. "Seems like a lifetime ago."

Paris smiled softly, looking back at the ocean, watching as the waves crashed on the shore a few moments before responding, "that's because it was."

He leaned back against the bench. The light from a nearby lamp illuminated part of her face as he studied her profile, realizing how different she looked now, although he had been able to recognize her immediately at first. "How've you been, Gellar?"

Her smile widened as she thought about the last eight years,  "You know, I haven't really thought about it, but I've been good, really good."  And she had, her life had taken a few unexpected turns but everything worked out and she was happy with how they had.

"Always knew you would, Paris. Harvard did you good."

"It did," she conceded. "But Yale did me better."

"Yale?" he asked, completely surprised. He had always figured she ended up in Harvard. He really had lost all contact with the society he grew up in if he never heard about Paris Gellar choosing Yale over Harvard. "How in the world did that happen?"

"Harvard rejected me," she stated simply, no longer bitter at the notion.  She knew it was for the best; she wouldn't trade her time at Yale for anything. Besides, she still managed to end up at Harvard for law school and she was better for it. It taught her that being the best didn't always make you the best, a lesson she needed to learn.  Looking over at the man seated beside her she couldn't help but wonder, "what about you?"

"Princeton. As it was always planned," he replied, with a grin. He remembered how much he tried to rebel, tried to break free from his father's grip on his future. In the end, he fulfilled his father's wishes and attended Princeton and then, started his own company to break away from the DuGrey name.

"I thought college was going to be your rebellion, or was that what military school was for?" Paris mused.  She couldn't help but wonder why he seemed so happy to have followed along the path he had wanted to escape growing up.

He laughed now, looking back on his youthful indiscretions. "I grew up, Paris. Princeton was a means to an end."

She wasn't sure what to make of his response, so she asked the only question that she thought would help her decide, "What end?"

"My own company." He grinned satisfied - he never got tired of saying that.

She couldn't stop her own grin from forming as she watched him; he looked like a child on Christmas morning.  "Your dad must have hated that."

He laughed out loud. "Oh yeah. That was an added bonus. I'm not going to deny there wasn't a part of me that did it to piss him off. But I realized that I had to do things myself for my own happiness if I ever wanted to end up differently from the rest of our cookie-cutter-molded peers."

She nodded in agreement, her smile growing wider by the second, she never smiled this much.  "You really have grown up," she noted, realizing she wanted to know more about him.

"As have you," he said softly, glancing up at her. "As I recall, the Paris Gellar I knew back then would not be sitting next to me so calm and collected. Especially after what happened the last time we saw each other."

She couldn't contain a chuckle as it escaped her lips, he was right, of course.  "Trust me, I didn't think I would be this calm either, but it doesn't matter anymore.  Besides, I got an A anyway," she added almost as an afterthought. 

"I'm glad." He grinned and they both sat in silence, listening to the sound of the ocean. "Have you kept in touch with anyone from Chilton? You were close to Louise and Madeline."

"Both of them actually, and Rory Gilmore" she paused wanting to gauge his reaction to her name.  Seemly satisfied with his lack of response she continued, "Louise is writing a fashion column for _Vogue, _Madeline is a struggling actress a la Joey Tribianni, and Rory's working her way up the ladder at the _New York Times_." 

Of course he remembered Rory Gilmore; looking back on it now, it was almost embarrassing. He liked to think that he had more self-control now than he had when he was sixteen. "Well, it looks like Chilton did pay off after all. For you and Rory at least. I'm sure Headmaster Charleston did not expect any Chilton graduate to end up in fashion or acting."

"Probably not," Paris agreed.  She stared out over the water no longer sure where to take the conversation.  They had covered most of the polite chatter and now they were left with a semi-awkward silence.  "How long are you here for?" she asked finally, needing a relief from the place they had fallen into. 

"I leave tomorrow. In the evening. You?"

She looked at him, surprise written across her face as she responded, "Me too."

"Let me guess: you need to be back for the party at the Claytons?" he asked, running a hand through his hair. When she nodded, he simply smiled. "How come our parents still insist that we attend these parties?"

"My parents believe I will find a suitable partner to betroth, their words, not mine," she replied with a sigh.

Tristan chuckled at the idea of Paris Gellar actually marrying someone she met at a society party. "They do realize we don't live in the eighteen hundreds, right?"

Paris smiled, stealing a glance at the blond beside her, "Sometimes I'm not so sure."

They both stood up at the same moment and Tristan turned to her with a smile. "Well, here we are again. It looks like we'll be seeing a lot more of each other, Paris."

"Hawaii, the plane, the party, eight years and now I get to see you everyday," Paris mused.

He slung his arm around her shoulder as they both headed down the boardwalk towards the resort. "This might be fun. Who woulda guessed it?"

Fate was funny like that.


	2. Coming Home

Disclaimer: Jamie and I own nothing. The characters belong to Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. Take it up with them if you have to.

Authors: Susie and Jamie (Mrs. Witter)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Paris/Tristan/Rory

Author's Note: Just so you know, the sexy Ian Somerhalder plays Lex.

****

Chapter 1: Coming Home 

"So, you're coming to the party, right?" Alexander Clayton asked his girlfriend as he lounged near the outdoor pool of his parents Hartford mansion. He heard her sigh and couldn't help but grin. He could picture her perfectly, sitting on her bed with her legs curled under her, her brows furrowed and her lower lip caught between her teeth as she tried to come up with an excuse. "You have to come! I'll die without you here."

She chuckled at his dramatics.  "You made it through a million parties before you met me, Lex.  What's one more?" Rory Gilmore asked playfully winding her finger around the phone cord as she fell back onto her bed.  For a moment she felt seventeen again- at home, talking to her boyfriend, any moment Lorelai would come bursting through the door wanting her attention, it was all the same.  Only she wasn't, she had grown up, and moved out but that didn't stop her from coming back.

"But those million parties were spent getting into trouble, then hiding…and when I was old enough, getting drunk," he quipped and then took a sip of the ice tea sitting on the glass table next to him. "Now, I have you."

"Well when you put it that way, how can a girl say no?" she responded teasing sarcasm lacing her voice. 

He laughed and swung his feet over the edge of the chaise lounge. The water looked tempting and it was a hot day. "That came out wrong. I can make it up to you, though."

"Oh really?"  Her eyebrow shot up inquisitorially, had he been in front of her, her next words wouldn't have been necessary.  "How do you intend to do that?" 

"Well, I'm inviting you over for a swim, of course." He walked over to the edge of the pool and sat down, dangling his feet in the water. "It's a hot day and the water is just right." Then, he grinned devilishly. "Besides, I want to see you in the new bikini Lorelai made you buy."

"Who said anything about a new bikini," Rory responded coyly a huge grin adorning her face- she loved goading him. 

He pouted and made circles in the water with his leg. "You're no fun, Miss Gilmore."

"You certainly no the way to a girl's heart, Clayton. Insult them while you are trying to get them to prance around practically naked in your presence," her tone was admonishing yet still playful.  "It's no wonder we are dating," she added almost as an afterthought.

"Tell me," he switched the phone from his left ear to his right, "are you always attracted to guys who insult you?"

She let out a sigh as she flopped backwards onto her bed, the vision of a blond annoyance from her past bouncing in her mind.  She paused for a moment longer then necessary, letting her mind linger on a vision of the blond leaning against her locker, his eyes sparkling, smirk in place as he through bantered with her.  Trying to keep her voice light as her head was still clouded with the past she responded, "Not always, just when their rich as well." 

He laughed deeply. "Why you little hussy. So tell me, are you coming and making the best of the last vestiges of the summer? You'll make your adoring boyfriend very happy."

"Yeah, I'll be there.  But while my adoring boyfriend waits for his hussy girlfriend he better be thinking of ways to make her very happy.  After all, that is the least he can do for her," she smiled, as much as she goaded him she really didn't mind going to the party, but she had to admit, this was a lot more fun than simply conceding. 

Oh how he loved to be teased by her and of course, return in kind with a comeback of his own. Sometimes, like now, she just made it too easy. "Oh, I can think of a lot of things I can do to keep her happy. And occupied."

A groan escaped her lips, "Get your mind out of the gutter or I will be wearing the one piece."

He grinned devilishly. "Even better. I like challenges."

"Goodbye, Lex.  I'm hanging up now."  And with that she placed the phone back in the cradle a goofy smile on her face as she went about finding her swimsuit and other necessities before she left. 

* * *

"Here let me get that for you," Tristan said as he stepped in front of Paris and pulled her black Samsonite off of the conveyer belt, before she could reach for it. When her saw her scowl in annoyance, he grinned. "Same old Paris."

She continued to glare at him as they waited for his bag to appear but he would not relinquish hold of her bag.  "Fine carry both bags, but don't come whining to me when you're in pain because you were carrying too much at once."    

"That's why they have trolleys, here, Paris."

"If you let me carry my own bag we wouldn't need a trolley," Paris pointed out as she crossed her arms over her chest.  

"Can't you just let me be a gentleman?" he asked as he found a stray trolley and heaved their bags onto the cart. She didn't say anything and nodded, even though he knew she wanted to retort. Time for a subject change. "So, is someone picking you up?"

Deciding it was better to let Tristan be the alpha male than to start a heated argument on feminism in the airport she let him deal with the luggage.  She shrugged at his question, "I was just going to take a cab."

"Nonsense," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand as they exited the airport, he scanned for the DuGrey's reliable chauffer. "You live two houses away from me. We'll just take the limo Mother sent over. Aren't your parents home?"

Paris snorted, "Mother's flying in from Rome later today and father is detained on business in Japan.  Don't tell me the DuGrey's are all home?"

"Yes, it a freak coincidence," Tristan replied with a slightly bitter edge. A sleek limo, with the DuGrey emblem emblazoned on the side pulled up and William, the chauffeur stepped out, in his crisp uniform. "Hey Will, how's it going?"

"Not too bad, Mr. DuGrey. Let me get your luggage there, Ms. Gellar," William said brightly as he came around the limo. "It is still, Ms. Gellar, right?"

Paris smiled at the graying chauffer, "Unfortunately," she mumbled.  Realizing he was still smiling at her she conceded, "Yes, that's me."

"I never forget a beautiful face, ma'am," he replied and he lugged the suitcases, easily into the trunk.

Tristan grinned and slung an arm around her. "She's a pretty one, ain't she?"

As color flooded her cheeks, Paris elbowed Tristan in the ribs, causing him to pull her closer towards his body.  Her breath hitched as she came into contact with his muscular form, silently berating herself for turning into a silly schoolgirl.  Turning her attention back to the two men she simply smiled before saying, "Flattery will get you nowhere with me," her crimson face betraying her words.  

Tristan grinned knowingly as he opened the limo door. "Paris Gellar, what have I done without you all these years?"

She eased into the limo before retorting, "The greater New York metropolitan area and it's surrounding counties?"

He couldn't help but let out a whoop of laughter. The Paris Gellar he knew would never say that to him; some things did change, after all. "You wound me."

"I didn't realize you had grown so soft DuGrey, forgive me," she quipped.

He refrained from making a sexual comment; it was too early in their re-acquaintance for that. As William pulled out of the airport terminal and onto the main highway, Tristan reached for the small fridge and pulled out two cans of soda, lifting it to her. She took in from him as he leaned back again. "I was thinking, since you're going to the Clayton's annual bash and I'm going to Clayton's annual bash…we should go together."

She looked at him questioningly, noting the sincerity in his eyes she found herself agreeing, "I'd like that."

He grinned and leaned back against the expensive leather. "It's a date."

A date, the words echoed in her head, flashing back to the one previous date they had had and it's resulting outcome.  Well at least time she knew he hadn't asked her to try and make another girl jealous.  She knew there was no reason to believe this time would turn out anything like the first, besides they were just friends and going as such.  "Yeah a date," she finally echoed, unsure of what else to say as she sipped her coke, it was not often Paris Gellar was at a loss for words.  

Tristan knew by the tone in her voice that she was thinking about their date way back when. He grinned a little, thinking about the outcome. He had been careless with her feelings back then but it was a long time ago and she had forgiven him, he knew that much. But they were older now, and were just getting their friendship back on track. Tristan had often wondered, over the years, what she had been up to, how she was, if she was married or burying herself in her work.  She had been his first, real, childhood friend and it was time he got to know her as an adult. "It'll be fun."

Paris couldn't help it, she laughed.  The last time she had fun at a society party, hell she couldn't remember ever having fun at a society party, certainly not as a teenager and now as an adult was no different.  She took a moment to regain her composure before she spoke, "When was the last time you had fun at one of these parties Tristan?"

"Well, never," he replied after a moment of deliberation. "But with you around, I'm sure to have loads of fun."

"I think you are remembering the wrong girl.  I was the soda monitor, remember?"  Despite her words she couldn't stop the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips, who knew, maybe tonight would be fun.

"Ah, but you're not a girl anymore," he replied, letting his gaze drop down to the exposed flesh of her neck but not lower because he wouldn't dare be improper. "And we're not in high school anymore, Gellar."

Despite his discretion she felt a blush start up her neck, since when did she allow people to make her blush?  And this made twice in less than an hour.  "Thank goodness for that."

He laughed as William pulled into their street and towards the Gellar mansion. "You know how they say that high school is supposed to be the best time in your life? Well, they have obviously never been to Chilton."

Paris nodded, looking out the window as they pulled into her driveway.  "Thank you for the ride Tristan.  I guess I'll see you later."  Pausing a moment in thought she continued, "You know, I can't wait to see the look on my mother's face when I tell her that not only do I have a date for tonight but with a DuGrey as well, she'll die on the spot."

He smiled and leaned forward to brush his lips against her cheek. "Tell her I said hi. I'll pick you up at seven."

Paris nodded as she took her suitcase from William, "See you then."

***

She slowly walked up the steps to the mansion, wishing her mother were able to come.  She knew that Lex would try to make sure she had a good time but his family was hosting the occasion and she understood that this meant most of his and consequently her time would be monopolized making small talk with all the guests.  At least if Lorelai were there she would have an escape.  She sighed resigned to what was to come.  Besides, she thought, Lex hated it almost as much as she did went the extra mile to make it up to her when the night was through.

Putting on a smile she allowed the butler to open the door, escorting her to the main room where the party was already in full swing.  She looked around her, noting all the black dresses and tailored tuxes, smoothing her own lavender dress, already feeling decidedly out of place.  Taking a champagne flute offered to her by one of the wait staff, she slowly spun around finding herself face to face with her grinning boyfriend.  

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" he exclaimed, snaked his arm around her waist and opened his mouth over hers in a kiss that was surely scandalous in front of all the guests. It was an added bonus that his parents would be upset for making a debacle. When he pulled away, Rory was giggling albeit flushed. "Wanna forgo the festivities and neck in a closet?"

Flashing him a devastating smile she answered, "I would love to, but I think they would throw a fit," she continued nodding in the direction of Lex's parents as they made their way towards the pair.

"Shit," he cursed lightly and then turned to face his parents, grinning widely. "Mom, Dad. Hello."

"Hello son," Alexander Clayton the second said, fixing a tight smile on his face that only grew wider when he gazed at Rory. "Lorelai, you're looking beautiful."

A demure blush colored her cheeks at the compliment, "Thank you."  Turning towards Mrs. Clayton she added, "You are looking lovely, that dress is stunning." 

"Oh now dear," Isabella said loftily with a wave of her hand. "You're just being kind. I think I've past the age where I would look stunning. Isn't that right, Lex?" 

"Of course not, Mother," he stated with a charming smile. "You know you're still the most gorgeous woman in this room."

Rory watched slightly amused as the Clayton's continued with their obligatory small talk, even with family, it was the only appropriate conversation at a social function.  She smiled politely as they said their goodbyes off to make rounds with the rest of their guests, not wanting to linger in any one spot too long.

Once they were out of earshot Rory turned back to Lex, a genuine smile on her lips this time, as she played with the lapel of his jacket, "How long 'til we can ditch?"

Lex smiled widely. "Just say the word, baby. I doubt they'll miss us."

"Probably not, and as much as I would love to leave right now, we should probably stay and mingle."  Gesturing at the crowded room with a wave of her hand, "your adoring public awaits, his Royal highness," she teased.  

Lex rolled his eyes and blushed slightly as a group of women standing in a corner giggled. He waved and turned back to his date. "You're mean. Anyone ever tell you that?"

"All the time.  Now go," she said pushing him towards a group of older men, "I'll go find us something to eat." 

"Yes ma'am," he replied, bent his head to give her a hot, open-mouthed kiss. When he was done, he grinned at her, thoroughly satisfied. "Hold that thought."

Rory simply gave him a devastating smile before she turned on her heel, heading over to a table adorned with various exotic fruits and cheeses.  She located the elaborate display of small china plates, careful as she picked one from the top to use.  She never did understand the need for such displays and the cheese, she loved cheese as much as the next girl, but for once she would love to see some real food at one of these events.

Placing cubes of various cheeses on her plate, enough to curb her hunger but no so much it was indecent, she idly looked around at her surroundings, the lavish Clayton estate filling with more people by the second.  For a moment she contemplated escaping to the garden, but quickly nixed the thought, knowing it would probably be hours before Lex got to her if she stayed outside.  Instead, once she had finished arranging the cheeses she turned intending to locate Lex and resume her role at his side for the evening, only she ended up knocking into a petite figure, somehow managing not to drop the plate in the process.    

Paris had spotted Rory as soon as she stepped into the main room of the Clayton mansion and was amused to see her old friend at the refreshment table. How odd was it that Fate would have two people who spent a lot of their time going from friends to enemies and back again to bump into each other so many times over the course of their lives. She had developed a fondness for Rory Gilmore that she had first tried so vehemently deny.

It was hard to hate someone who had such a large impact on her life, her thought process and if she wanted to get mushy, in her heart. 

She quickly crossed the room, hoping that Tristan would be able to spot her when he returned with their drinks, and went to tap her friend on the shoulder. Rory turned with a plate of cheese that surprisingly, didn't fall as they crashed into each other.

"I see your reflexes are improving, Gilmore," Paris greeted dryly as she took a step back.

"Paris!" Rory practically squealed in delight ready to give the blonde a hug but quickly checked the urge as she remembered where she was.  "I didn't realize you were going to be here."

Paris rolled her eyes, hints of a grin playing at her lips. "And miss the party of the summer? Like, I would. But, I am surprised that you're here, Gilmore. I don't see your grandparents here so I'm sure they didn't coax you into this shindig."

"They're in Europe," Rory supplied.  Smiling almost wistfully at a memory she continued, "My boyfriend is the one who did the coaxing."

"Boyfriend," Paris stated wryly even though she was grinning. "I should have known. Tell me, Rory, have you ever been single?"

She pretended to think for a moment before she replied, "Do the years zero to sixteen count?"

"Funny. So who's the glutton for punishment this time?"

"Alexander Clayton," Rory answered, watching in amusement, as Paris's jaw seemed to drop ever so slightly at her omission.  "Why does this surprise you?"

Paris closed her mouth and shook her head. "Just because I never figured you'd date someone from well…the Country Club. Although, Lex is a wonderful if not slightly neurotic guy so I don't see why not."

"Thanks for the approval, Par," Rory responded dryly.  Then perking slightly she queried, "What about you?  You here with a date or are you braving the party solo?"

She didn't know why but it felt good to know that her answer would be one Rory was not expecting. Everyone, especially her mother, expected her to be single and alone and for once, Paris felt like she had the upper hand. "Actually, I do have a date. I'm not sure if you remember him, but he went to Chilton with us; Tristan DuGrey."


	3. Same Old

Disclaimer: Jamie and I own nothing. The characters belong to Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. Take it up with them if you have to.

Authors: Susie and Jamie (Mrs. Witter)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Paris/Tristan/Rory

_Chapter 2: Same Old_

Tristan made his way through the guests, holding two champagne flutes in his hands. It had taken him longer to get them something to drink because of the hordes of people who had stopped him, making small talk or digging for gossip on where he had spent the summer. A few women had blatantly hit on him and it had taken him more time than should have been necessary to fend them off. 

When he finally spotted his date for the evening, she was talking to a brunette who's faced was obscured by Paris's head. She looked familiar enough but he couldn't place it. 

"Actually, I do have a date. I'm not sure if you remember him, but he went to Chilton with us; Tristan DuGrey," he heard Paris say as he approached.

He grinned widely. An ex-Chiltonite. "Present and accounted for, Gellar." He smirked down at her as he handed her a flute and then turned to face the mystery guest from the past. He felt his pulse trip as his own eyes met surprised blue ones. "Rory Gilmore."

Rory tried to remain nonplussed by Paris's revelation, but the second her eyes met Tristan's her attempt failed miserably.  She had avoided thinking about him since he left and as the years past the task became easier but she couldn't deny the part of her that had always wondered what had become of him and here he was and he had spoken to her and there she was standing like an idiot eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.  Regaining what she could of her composure she managed to speak, "Tristan, hi.  It's been a while."  

Suddenly, he felt sixteen again. "Yeah, uh, the play was it?" 

Paris rolled her eyes as she watched the scene before her unfold, if she were nine years younger she would have probably interjected in a fit of rage, instead she continued to watch in amusement as they struggled to hold the simplest of conversations.

Rory smiled for a moment, pleased that he remembered their last meeting, only for it to turn into a frown as she recalled that evening.  "Yeah, the play," she mimicked his words adding, "when you were carted off to military school."    

Tristan bit back a frustrated sigh along with a teasing jab, what was it about her that brought out the worst in him? "That was a long time ago. I guess things do change, I would never have expected you to be at one these shindigs."

She shrugged nonchalantly, "I'm not exactly here by choice."

"Only people with high thresholds for pain are here by choice, Rory," Lex quipped as he came up from behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and then turning to her companions. "DuGrey, glad you could make it. Paris, nice tan."

Rory elbowed him lightly, smiling apologetically at Paris who was rolling her eyes, even though she blushed. "Don't pay any attention to my boyfriend. He spent too long in the sun today."

Tristan grinned wryly as he watched the exchange between the two brunettes. Boyfriend, of course. Rory Gilmore always had a boyfriend. He asked what every busybody at a party would ask, "So, Clayton, how'd the two of you meet anyway? You two don't travel in the same social circles."

"Actually, we do," Rory interjected, "sort of."  She grinned at the memory of their first meeting before continuing, "At least my grandparents do, he knocked me off my feet at my grandmother's Christmas party, literally."

Lex rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Well, if you'd been looking where you were going, I wouldn't have crashed into you. She had her nose stuffed in one of her books."

"Well, some parties give her a chance to catch up on her reading." Tristan didn't totally understand how or when the memory returned to him but when his gaze locked with her, he knew that she was remembered too. "Isn't that right, Gilmore?"

A blush crept over Rory's face, coloring her cheeks as Tristan's words struck her, his eyes penetrating her own, and she knew they were both thinking the same thing.  She quickly adverted her gaze to the ground, she knew that the path they were headed down could be dangerous, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to get there just yet.

Sensing the mounting tension between her date and former nemesis Paris spoke up, "I think Rory uses everything as a chance to catch up on her reading."  

The brunette shot her a grateful smile before turning back to Lex, "Besides my head might have been reading but that doesn't change the fact that you were obviously not looking where you were going either."

Lex chuckled, lightly flicking the tip of her nose with his finger. "Well, at least I was lucky enough to have bumped into a beautiful woman than another member of DAR."

"Still have a way with the ladies, don't you, Alexander?" Tristan scoffed. 

Lex grinned. "So tell me, how'd the two of you hook up?"

Deciding she didn't want to find out what misguided attempt at lewd humor Tristan would retort with, Paris took it upon herself to answer Lex's question.  "We're not together, well we are here together but we're not together," she cringed as the words escaped her mouth, what was she saying?  Perhaps she should have just let Tristan answer the question.

Tristan smirked at her flustered state and swung an arm around her shoulder, playfully. Teasing her had always been so much fun "Aw, honey, you wound me. And to think of all of those night we spent together."

Her arms crossed over her chest as her mouth curved into a scowl, "Night, Tristan, it was one night." Her mouth snapped shut as she registered what she had just said, the look of shock on Rory and Lex's faces and the amusement and laughter erupting from Tristan.  And in that moment she wished the world would swallow her whole, why was it that Tristan seemed to be the only person who could push her like this, and time had done nothing to wane his effect.  

Tristan saw her blush prettily and felt pity. "What my date is trying to say is we also 'bumped' into each other in Hawaii. And we were both on the same plane back, returning for the same party. It was only natural I ask her out."

"Coincidence," Lex stated, smiling widely. "I think not."

Paris struggled to control her laughter at Lex's comment, coincidence or not, the boy was corny.  "So, you think it was Fate that brought us together, do you, Lex?" she asked doing her best to keep a straight face.

Lex waved his hand in a dramatic gesture. "Fate, destiny, kismet. Why not?"

"So you believe that if two people were meant to be," Tristan paused to rest his eyes on Rory again "they'd eventually find their way to each other, huh? That we don't choose who we love?"

Rory felt her cheeks burn once again as Tristan's gaze settled upon her, what was he trying to do?  He was here with Paris, she had a boyfriend, a boyfriend whom she liked very much, and then there was Tristan who for whatever reason seemed to be pushing something, but why?  Deciding it was best not to dwell on the blonde, she turned towards her boyfriend awaiting his answer to the question.

"I'm not sure. I'm just trying to sound sensitive," Lex answered, wiggled his eyebrows at his girlfriend and then leaned in to lightly kiss her lips. "Girls dig that shit, right Gilmore?"

Paris rolled her eyes at the scene before her, watching the small smile curve Rory's lips before she leaned back into Lex, allowing him to kiss her more fully. _I guess some girls do dig that shit_, Paris thought dully, taking a sip of her champagne as she turned her gaze to her date.  She knew that he had had a thing for Rory back in high school, but it was becoming glaringly obvious that he might never have truly gotten over her.  Shaking her head in disgust she announced, "I'm going to get some air," before walking heading out towards the garden.

Glad to have found a way out of there, Tristan shrugged his shoulders at the nauseating sight in front of him and followed Paris outside. "Hey Gellar, wait up! Whoa, where's the fire?"

Paris stopped suddenly, whipping her body around to face Tristan, her actions causing him to grab hold of her waist to keep from knocking into her.  Ignoring his touch she bit out, "I got tired of reliving high school."

He ran a hand through his hair. "What are you talking about?"

"What do you think I am talking about?" she seethed through clenched lips her hurt and anger only growing as he stared at her perplexedly.  "You and Rory, that scene back there, lose a few years, change Lex to Dean and we're just where we were nine years ago."

Maybe because the words hit a little too close, the denial was quick and reactionary. "You're cracked, Paris. Besides, Lex looks nothing like her high school boyfriend."

"You can't even say his name Tristan; Dean, his name was Dean.  And Lex and Dean look similar enough not to mention their sickeningly sweet and perfect relationship with Queen Oblivious.  But not to worry, if history repeats itself perhaps you'll get to be the one to cause their breakup," she ranted, turning back on her heel and out the glass doors to the back before he could stop her.

***

After their embrace had been broken Lex gave Rory one last quick kiss before he headed across the room to meet and greet some more of his parents' friends, hoping the sooner he got it over with the sooner they could bolt.  Turning around Rory was surprised to find that Paris and Tristan were no longer there.  She took a moment to look around the room trying to find a familiar face, not finding one she took a champagne flute from a nearby waiter before weaving her way through the crowded room trying to locate Paris.

Finally she saw her, a flash of blonde hair on top of a petite, confident frame.  Rory was behind her in two strides when she turned around, nearly knocking Rory down, if it hadn't been for the man behind her.  Her face fell when she realized the confident blonde was not Paris but instead an older woman in her late forties.  Straightening up, she turned to thank the man whose arms she was still entangled in only for her words to die on her lips as her gaze caught his, blue on blue, and for a moment she forgot how to speak.  

"Looking for someone, Rory?" Tristan drawled lazily, noting with amusement that Rory's lips were slightly parted and she looked a little dumbfounded.

Tearing her eyes from his she somehow found her voice, "Actually, I was looking for your date," she replied her voice sounding bitter to her own ears.

He had to bite his tongue to stop the 'jealous, are we?' comment that he was about to snap back at her. He wasn't sixteen anymore and they were too old for petty mind games. "Well, it looks like we both had the same idea. She's angry with me and I don't know why. God, she hasn't changed a bit."

Despite her unfound dislike for the idea of Paris and Tristan dating, she couldn't hold back her laughter at Tristan's comment.  "But that's part of her charm," she supplied as she managed to keep her laughter in check.  "Isn't it?" 

"It is. I didn't realize how much I had missed her until I saw her again," he replied a little wistfully. His gaze met Rory's curious one, snapped out of his nostalgia and he shrugged. "I guess the saying's true. Anyway, what have you been up to these past couples of years?"

She stopped herself from calling him on the blatant change in topic, realizing it was a blessing in disguise, as she really had no desire to discuss what Tristan liked about Paris with him.  "I write a column for the _New York Times_," Rory answered, her face lighting up as she thought about the column she had finally attained after working her way up from writing obituaries.  "What about you?"

He racked his brain, trying to remember if he had ever read he column without noticing the byline. "I, uh, have my own company. Which column do you write?"

"A Taste of Manhattan," she replied automatically, then added, "it runs twice weekly in the arts and leisure section.  I love it because I can pretty much write about whatever I want, despite the title, it's not just food."

He made a mental note to dig through some of the old newspapers he kept in his New York apartment to catch up on her old pieces. "Well you know me, I've never been an avid reader. I'll make sure to keep my eye out for your column though. So is it Rory Gilmore or Lorelai Gilmore to make it sound more official?"

"Rory Hayden actually."

"Hayden?"

Rory nodded, "It's my dad's last name.  My parents finally got married a few years ago and while I didn't actually change my name, I felt it was something I should do.  Besides, it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"That it does, Hayden." He grinned and surveyed the room before retuning his gaze to hers. "So, you and Lex must be real serious if he's got you to attend these parties. Willingly."

A smile crept over her lips at Tristan's question, "I wouldn't exactly say I'm here willingly," dropping her voice she whispered conspiratorially, "let's just say I was bribed."

"Bribed? I thought you had more will power than that."

"I do, generally, it just so happens Lex knows my weak spot."

Irritated by the little stab those words caused in him, she merely raised an eyebrow. He was raised to not let his emotions physically manifest themselves and he'd be damned if Rory Gilmore was going to make him lose his composure. Not after all these years. "Oh and what's that?

Despite his attempt not to lose his cool she could tell her comment had disturbed him and for reasons she was not willing to explore she took comfort in this fact.  With added confidence she shook her head, "I could tell you but what fun would that be?" 

Well, she wanted to play, did she? He could do that. In fact, hadn't he invented the game? He pocketed his hands in his trousers and his lips curved into a smirk. "Once a tease, Rory, always a tease."

She caught his eye trying her best to keep the amusement off her face and look aghast at his comment, "I am not a tease, and I pride myself on the follow through."

He didn't even want to think about what that meant. "Like hell you do. Rory Gilmore, you haven't changed at all."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" she attempted to keep her voice light but she truly was curious, she couldn't be sure if his comment was meant as an insult or something else entirely. 

Glad that he could make her a little unnerved, he simply shrugged. "Exactly what it sounded like. You are just the same. Rewind eight years and nothing's changed."

She couldn't help but wonder on the shift in tone of the conversation and when this had become an attack on her, she wondered if it was simply a defense mechanism Tristan was using to push her away.  Determined not to let him get to her or allow him to push her away she responded with a smile, "I wouldn't be so sure of that."  

Before he could respond, he caught glimpse of a familiar dirty blonde across the room and her earlier words came back to him. Was it true? He wondered, glancing briefly at Rory's bemused expression. Was he the one that was still the same when it came to her? "Look, there's Paris. Maybe she's cooled down a bit."

Rory chuckled wondering what it was Tristan had done to cause Paris to lose her cool.  Knowing Paris, it could be anything.  "What happened?"

"I have no clue." It wasn't a complete lie. He really didn't know why Paris was pissed off. The reason she had given him was too ridiculous to make a twenty-five year old run away like that. High school was so long ago and they had all grown up. "One minute she's fine, the next you're playing tonsil hockey with Clayton and she's pissed."

Ignoring the twinge of bitterness in his tone as well as the bluntness of his comment she prodded, "So obviously whatever got to Paris had to do with my kissing my boyfriend and nothing to do with you, her date?"

He had forgotten how easily she could get under his skin. "How am I supposed to know? It's been eight years and that woman is still hard to figure out."

Rory nodded her head in agreement not about to argue the intricacies that comprised Paris Gellar.  Still, she reasoned, Paris had matured from the teenager she used to be and was almost positive she gave Tristan some sort of reason for her temper flaring.  Assuming that he didn't want to discuss it and not wanting to pry she said the first thing that came to mind, "But you're going to try?"  Noticing his confused expression she clarified, "You're going to try and figure her out?" 

Tristan pondered the question for a moment; surprised that Rory had inadvertently read his thoughts. When he had first seen Paris Gellar in Hawaii, his initial reaction had been wonder. He wondered about what she had become, how she had changed. In fact, she intrigued him. It was quite shocking to find that he was pleased to reacquaint himself with a childhood friend - one, who he had a somewhat rocky history with. "Yeah, I am."

Rory forced a smile onto her face, somehow while she had been expecting his answer she hadn't been expecting the wistful tone in his voice and she certainly hadn't expected the mixed feelings his tone invoked within her.  "It's nice to see some things do change, who ever thought Tristan DuGrey would be pursuing a girl with substance?  Voluntarily."

"Well, it just seems that woman of substance are finally giving me a chance," he replied with a grin, although his comment was pretty pointed. "And thank you for proving my point."

She looked at him genuinely confused, "Proving what point?"

"That you haven't changed," he answered and when her brows furrowed in confusion, he elaborated carefully keeping the edge out of his voice. "You still think very lowly of me and it's been years. You always thought you knew me."

She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it abruptly dumbfounded.  Taking a moment to compose herself she responded, "I've never thought lowly of you.  Sure I thought your taste in girls was, well, lacking, but I've never thought lowly of you.  I can't believe you would even think that." 

"You give me no reason to think otherwise, Gilmore." He sighed, somewhat irritably. The past had no place in the present and he wished he could just forget the end of this conversation. "I'm going to go look for Paris. It was nice seeing you again."

He turned abruptly and left before she could say anything else.


	4. Stay

**Disclaimer**: Jamie and I own nothing. The characters belong to Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. Take it up with them if you have to.

**Authors**: Susie and Jamie (Mrs. Witter)

**Rating**: PG-13

**Pairing**: Paris/Tristan/Rory…though if you know us at all, you can guess how it ends…

**Author's Note**: Sorry this chapter took so long to get up, writing is ten times harder when working on two people's schedules, but we hope you find it worth the wait.  Thanks to Surya for being wonderful and betaing and everyone else who might be reading and reviewing, it means the world to us both.

Chapter 3: Stay 

Once outside the fresh air had afforded her brain enough oxygen for her to realize she was overreacting.  She had foolishly allowed her petty high school insecurities to resurface.  What did it matter if Tristan was still hung up on Rory?  After all it wasn't like she was still interested in him, that ship had sailed long ago, hadn't it?  Deciding it most certainly had, she made her way back inside to apologize to her date for her unreasonable brashness.

As she walked back into the crowded room her ears were assaulted with the buzz of the at least thirty conversations.  She quickly scanned the room, taking in the scene before her without really seeing it at all, not that it mattered, it was no different then all the other socialite parties.  Her attempt to find her date for the evening seemed to be in vain as she couldn't seem to locate him amongst the various groups of people.  Sighing, she turned on her heel, ready to look in another part of the house when she collided with a man.

Tristan grabbed Paris's shoulders as she nearly toppled them over, to steady her. Grinning, he looked down at her and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "Are we staging mutiny here, Gellar?"

Paris's eyes flared a moment at being run into but softened with the sound of his voice.  "Unfortunately not," she quipped, wishing for the excuse to leave.

"We could always start one," he suggested easily. When she rolled her eyes and looked longingly at the nearest exit, he steered her into the direction. "We don't have to stay, you know. I'm sure no one will miss us."

A smile curved the corners of her lips, she knew he was right and yet despite wanting to leave she wasn't quite ready yet.  "They wouldn't, but it's still early, and as my date you cannot leave until you dance with me," she stated firmly, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to question her.

Always the gentleman, Tristan offered his elbow with a gallant smile and led her to the backyard again, where various couples were dancing under the soft glow of what seemed like hundreds of tinkling lights. Paris twined her arm in his and followed him, smiling. "So you'll have to tell me what else is in this date contract, Paris. I'm not sure I know all the protocol of dating you."

She laughed; it was a light melodious sound that escaped her lips not nearly often enough.  Taking his proffered hand while situating her self in his arms she replied, "Now what fun would it be if I told you everything now?"

He chuckled as his other hand settled comfortably on the small of her back and they swayed gently to the music. The flirtatious gleam in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by him as he stared down at her face and he felt that familiar tug in his stomach. She had grown into a confident woman and yet there were still hints of the young girl he used to know, the one who had grown up with him. It intrigued him more than he would have liked to admit. "Well, if you're not going to tell me, at least let me apologize for saying or doing whatever it was that pissed you off so royally."

At his words and the reminder of _why she stalked off her face flushed a deep red, instinctively she moved closer to him in an effort to conceal her blush.  "Thank you, but it was nothing, you didn't do anything, I was just…" Just what?  Being petty?  Reverting back to high school?  What?  "Let's just forget it.  I'm sorry for running off."_

There was something more to it, he knew that, but decided not to pursue it. Whatever it was, it would ruin the friendliness that had settled over them again and he didn't want to risk getting yelled at by her again. But still, something nagged at his conscience. "You and Rory seem close now."

Paris tensed a moment at the mention of the brunette before scolding herself.  Rory hadn't put her this on edge since before they graduated high school.  She nodded her head, "We were roommates in college."

"And you didn't kill each other?" he joked, trying to lighten the serious expression that had taken over her features. Earlier, when they were talking to Rory and Lex, the two women seemed incredibly comfortable in each other's presence so he had to wonder what made Paris so prickly now. "That's amazing."

"Trust me, it wasn't for lack of trying," she replied with a chuckle.

"Oh I'll bet," he answered and they lapsed into a comfortable silence. She rested her head lightly on his shoulder and he unconsciously tightened his grip on her hand.  His gaze wandered over to the other dancers and not surprisingly, he saw Rory in Lex's arms, head on his shoulder. Their eyes locked briefly before she turned her gaze away and laughed at something Lex said. Tristan looked away and focused on Paris. "How's your mother?"

"Neurotic as ever," Paris responded easily.  "Unfortunately now that I don't live at home, when she does see me she is more critical than she ever was before.  Of course, when she calls I have the pleasure of hanging up, only that gets me even more lectures on proper etiquette," she rambled, not sure why she kept going.  It wasn't like her to ramble but her mother always did have a way of unsettling her like no other.  

"That sounds about right," he said as the music changed to something more upbeat and he pulled away from her to twirl her under his arm. She laughed at the elaborate move, making an extremely pretty picture: tarnished golden hair tumbling over her shoulders, her eyes dancing in the light and the flimsy material of her pink dress swirling around her knees. "I see someone has taken dance lessons."

She smiled as they continued their intricate dance, "Who hasn't?" she asked rhetorically.  "I might not have danced at any of the dances I went to when we were younger, but that doesn't mean I didn't know how to dance." 

"That's okay. I don't like to dance in public, too much, either." A leering grin spread over his face and he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "I prefer most of my dancing to be done in private."

"I know," she replied with a laugh, "your reputation precedes you, DuGrey." 

"It's not all as horrible as it sounds, you know."

"I know," she confirmed, once again resting her head on his shoulder as the music slowed. 

"Back then, no one knew me as well as you did, Paris. No one ever gave me the benefit of the doubt or a second chance." Unbidden, his gaze rested on Rory again and he hated himself for it. "You always did. Of course I managed to ruin that and ran out of chances with you, didn't I?"

Paris shrugged, turning her head so she could meet his gaze, "I don't know, you are doing pretty well with the one you have right now."

Tristan stared down at her face and watched the light play across it. Her eyes were wide, sincere and beautiful. Mesmerized, Tristan lowered his head, with every intention of brushing his lips against hers but was cut off by a boisterous voice. "Hey DuGrey, do you mind if I cut in?"

Paris turned her head but not before Tristan saw the disappointment flash across her face. He looked over her shoulder at Lex and Rory who were still in an embrace but obviously waiting for his response. Rory looked at him curiously and he didn't know why but he was glad she didn't know about his intention to kiss Paris. "Sure Lex," he said dryly as he let go of Paris. "Perfect timing.  As usual."

Before she allowed Tristan to let go of her completely, she moved in closer to him, standing on her tip toes, her mouth next to his ear, she whispered, "We can finish this later."  And before he had time to smirk she moved away, taking Lex's proffered hand. 

***

Lex waltzed off with his date and Tristan turned to Rory, one hand in his pocket and the other resting limply at his side as he debated on whether or not she'd rebuff his request to dance. Their last conversation hadn't ended on a particularly cheery note and he could tell that she was wary of him as well, as she kept her distance and bit her bottom lip. What the hell, he thought as he watched her. "So, do you want to dance?"

Rory looked up, startled by his voice.  When Lex had decided to whisk away Paris, she had wondered whether or not Tristan would actually ask her to dance, or if they would just stand here waiting for their dates in awkward silence, obviously he had chosen the former.  Upon hearing him clear his throat, she realized she had yet to answer his question.  Weighing her options one more time, she finally responded with a simple nod of her head as she took his proffered hand.

Tristan stepped closer to her, slipping one arm around her waist and holding the other firmly in his arm. She tensed a little at the soft collision of their bodies and he was going to back away when she reached up and rested her other hand on his shoulder. For an awkward moment, they stared at each other without moving. He grinned, trying to break the ice. "Am I leading or are you going to take over?"

His grin was infectious and she found herself returning it.  "You can lead.  Unless of course you would prefer I lead, I am just not so sure how good I would be, at leading.  At least I don't usually, even when my mom and I danced, at the marathon, she led, but I could try," she babbled, snapping her mouth shut when she caught site of his smirk and became conscious of the fact that she was rambling.

_You're cute when you ramble_, he wanted to tell her but wisely kept his mouth shut. Flattery had never worked with her in the past and he didn't want to bring back the tension. "Marathon?"

"Yeah, my town, Stars Hollow, they have a twenty-four hour dance marathon every year and the last couple left standing wins a trophy.  It's terrible, you can't walk for like a week after," she replied with a wistful smile, indicating that despite the pain, it wasn't really all that terrible at all. 

"Sounds better than the crap we go through in Hartford," Tristan returned easily. "Girls in white cotton ball dresses, hoping to spend life on the arm of some boy that they won't even remember in two years as they're showcased in society like some rare collectible. Who would go through the humiliation?"

Her cheeks flamed as he continued his description, bringing to mind the image of herself in such a dress, at such a place engrained in her memory.  Resting her head on his shoulder, in an attempt to hide her face, she responded, with what she hoped sounded like cool confidence, "I did."

She said it so softly; he thought he didn't hear her. "Excuse me?"

"I did," she repeated herself, her words coming out clearer this time, as she realized despite his description, her actions were nothing to be ashamed of.

He tried to picture it, he really did. The image of sixteen year old Rory Gilmore in those ridiculous dresses came to mind and despite his harsh words regarding the subject, he knew that she probably looked incredible, as if she fit into that world. "I would have paid good money to see that."

"Why?  So you could laugh at me?  I'm glad you didn't have the opportunity," she bit out, the words sounding harsh to her own ears, as she lifted her head from his shoulder and looked him in the eye.

"That's not what I meant," he said, surprised that she sounded hurt. To make it up, he grinned cheekily. "I just never figured you for the high society deb that you so obviously are. I mean, you were so popular at Chilton."

Her anger quickly dissipated at his words and she found herself smiling at him, "Oh yeah, Queen of Chilton that was me."

"You didn't fit," he stated and when she narrowed her eyes, he clarified, "I mean it in a good way. Most of us were spoiled and cynical. You were different."

She wasn't sure how to respond to his comment, but knowing he meant it as a compliment, she responded with the only words that came to mind, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He smiled and in the silence that followed, she returned her head to his shoulder. He held her closer, unconsciously tightening his grasp on her waist. Her hair smelled faintly of vanilla and he had to stop himself from running a hand through the silky softness.

_This is nice_, she thought running her hand along his shoulder, to the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, _very nice_.  She knew she should pull away that she wasn't supposed to feel this comfortable, like she fit, with another man, a man who wasn't Lex, a man she hadn't seen in years, and really, barely knew, but she did feel and she didn't want to pull away.  Instead she allowed herself the moment to pretend that this was okay, after all, it was just a dance, one that would soon be ending at that.  What could it hurt?

***

"Well," Lex chuckled as his eyes wandered over to his girlfriend in Tristan's arms across the dance floor, over Paris's shoulder. If he was insecure and brought up differently, he would have rushed over and pried them apart. Fortunately Claytons never caused scenes. "The DuGrey charm: working its magic. I can't believe I forgot. His reputation is rock solid, after all."

Paris tried her best to hide her amusement as he attempted to keep his jealousy in check and she couldn't help but wonder if he had any clue of the history between Tristan and Rory.  Realizing there was no way he would know because Rory would never admit there was anything between her and Tristan, Paris shook her head before looking her dance partner in the eyes.  "You're welcome to go over there if you like, reclaim your girl, this song is almost over anyway."

Lex was torn. On one hand, he didn't want to be the territorial caveman that dwelled deep down inside him and he wanted to trust Rory and on the other, he wanted to let Tristan know in no uncertain terms that the beautiful brunette was his without sounding like a jealous boyfriend. The two of them did look awful cozy. "They're just dancing. I can wait until the song is completely over."

Paris held back a very unladylike snort as she watched his gaze narrow while he watched the couple.  She knew if she allowed herself to analyze the situation as Lex was no doubt doing she would be annoyed and jealous as well, after all it was her nature, but she wasn't going to allow herself to do that.  Instead she continued to dance, listening as the final strains of the song filtered through the air before pulling back from Lex.  "Go ahead," she said with a wave her hand, indicating the other couple who seemed to not have noticed the end of the song. 

He gave her a sheepish smile and then, instead of bolting over to his girlfriend, he walked calmly towards them. As he approached, they pulled away from each other as if they had just realized the song had ended. Fisting his hands, he pocketed them and smiled pleasantly. "Hey DuGrey, can I have my girlfriend back now?"

Tristan's lips curled into a smirk at the tension engulfing the other man.  As he was about to retort his gaze caught Paris's, who had just sidled up beside Lex, telling him to play nice.  He nodded his head in acknowledgement before turning back to Lex, "She's all yours, man.  I was just making due, since you stole _my_ date."  

Rory giggled a little nervously, like she did whenever things got uncomfortable. "Would you listen to them, Paris? Treating us like we're some kind of trophy."

Paris smiled politely before responding her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Imagine that, society men treating women like trophies.  Scandalous."

Tristan knew the expression Paris had on very well. Fortunately, he knew the exact thing to do to make her smile as well. He came over to stand beside her and tucked her arm in the crook of his. "Paris, you know I hold the utmost respect for you. Now let's go find a quiet corner to go make out."

Just as he predicted Paris smiled, despite herself, and he led her away from the other couple. Lex turned to Rory and smiled brightly, wanting to forget that she had been dancing in Tristan's arms moments ago, blissfully unaware of anything. "They make an odd couple."

Rory nodded, watching as the other couple weaved their way out of the room arm in arm.  It was clear from how at ease they looked, their heads tilted towards one another, virtually oblivious to the elderly couple they almost ran into that despite their oddness they somehow worked.  This idea left her feeling strangely disappointed, she had Lex, she should be happy for Paris and Tristan.  Shaking her head she turned back to her boyfriend, "So, now that you have me all to yourself what are you going to do with me?"

Lex was glad all her attention was on him again, he was stupid to think that Rory had any interest in Tristan. They hardly knew each other, after all. He grinned and took her hand in his. "Oh, I can think of plenty but I'm sure we'd get booked for public indecency."

Rory smiled, outwardly laughing, but after her dance with Tristan inwardly she couldn't help compare the two men, they were similar, both society men, both could hold their own in the banter department.  Why did she even feel the need to compare, it shouldn't matter what Tristan was like, but she couldn't let it go.  Trying her best to shove the other man out of her mind for now, she directed what she hoped to be a genuine smile at Lex, "I guess we'll just have to make due some other way for now?" 

"That or we could follow DuGrey's lead and go up to my room," he suggested softly but in a tone that implied he was serious. He saw her draw in her bottom lip between her teeth and furrowed her brows in consideration. Lex knew that if he let her think about it too long, he'd never get her to his room so he leaned down and brushed his lips coaxing against hers. He pulled away and murmured huskily, "C'mon Rory. We've schmoozed long enough. No one will miss us and my parent's won't even notice."

A demure smile crossed her features, as her cheeks colored slightly, the husky quality in his tone causing her mind to wander where he wanted it.  "Okay," her answering coming without anymore thought.

"Great." Lex pulled back completely, smiling. He thought he'd need to do more convincing. Taking her hand in his again, he tugged her towards the winding staircase, anxious to get her in a room where they could drown out the sounds of a society party that was getting too dull for his tastes and have a little fun of their own.

***

Tristan's car pulled to a halt in front of the Gellar mansion.  Paris turned to face her date for the evening, ready to thank him for putting up with her for the night only to find she was looking at an empty seat and a closing door.  Turning back to her window she smiled as Tristan opened her door, and extended her his hand in order to help her from her seat.  As she took his hand she spoke, "Thanks, you didn't have to do that."

He smiled at her, taking a minute to admire her legs as she got out of the car. "My pleasure."

Once securely on her own two feet, she took her hand back, using it to effectively backhand his shoulder, "Pig." 

"You can't fault me for appreciating beauty." He grinned unapologetically as they walked to the front door of the Gellar mansion.

"Sorry Tristan, I know you too well.  Those lines won't work on me," she shot back with a grin of her own.

He placed a hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture. "You know, it really hurts when you doubt that I'm anything but sincere. If you really knew me that well, you'd know that I think you're gorgeous," he stated, his voice softening towards the end.

She couldn't help the blush that rose to her cheeks at his words, despite her wariness of his compliments, the sincerity of his tone had her wanting to believe him, it wasn't everyday someone told her such things.  Of course this didn't stop her from falling back on her own defensive mechanisms, "You are so full of it, DuGrey."

Tristan sighed; it was obviously going to take more than sincere words to make Paris believe anything he was saying. With anybody else, he would have given up on winning them over but this was Paris, a girl he had known as a child and a woman whom he found attractive and interesting. She had grown up since their days at Chilton.  He also knew that she was a very complex individual with a multitude of trapdoors and brick walls protecting that big heart, "This is true, darling. It's ingrained in my DNA and I am but a slave to biology."

A chuckle escaped her lips as they halted their walk, turning towards each other.  Ignoring his last comment she spoke, "Thanks for going with me tonight.  I had a lovely time."

He smiled and without thinking, tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "I had a great time, too. I don't think I would have been able to handle a party like that without you."

If it weren't for the fact that his hand had moved to caress her cheek she would have called him on the obvious line, instead all her energy was focused on not reacting to the tenderness of his touch and all she managed was a nod accompanied by "Me too."

On instinct, he lowered his mouth and kissed her cheek while his thumb continued to softly stroke the other. When he pulled away, her eyes fluttered opened. "Goodnight Paris."

"Goodnight Tristan," she returned her mind still a bit hazy as she watched him walk back to his car, a small smile curving her lips.

As he reached his car, a thought popped into his mind and he turned around, glad to see that she was still standing near the door. "Hey Paris, I'll call you. Maybe we can do this again sometime."  She smiled in response and he slid into his car, a smile on his lips as well.


End file.
